


Crossed Signals

by Icarus



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drabble, Drama, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-10-02
Updated: 2005-10-02
Packaged: 2018-10-25 17:51:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10769367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Icarus/pseuds/Icarus
Summary: Harry's been dating red heads. Lots of red heads. And Ron thinks he knows why.





	Crossed Signals

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

Harry cringes, unsure what else to say. Ron's hand is warm and slightly sweaty as it slides off his back and leaves behind cold air. The short distance between them suddenly seems like miles. Harry looks up to find that stung expression on his best friend's face. Ron had gone from accusing and certain, to stunned. 'I saw you with those blokes. All red-heads, Harry,' he'd said. 'Don't deny it. I'm not stupid.'

Then he'd done something very stupid. Oh God.

Harry tries to explain, "Sorry, um... you're a great friend. But - but I don't - I can't think of you in that way."

"Oh."

Ron wipes his mouth and looks at the ground. He scuffs his shoe as they stand in the yard behind the Burrow, quiet a long moment. "Just so you know, I'm not like that."

"Right."

"Just keep that in mind." Ron wags his finger.

"Okay."

There's another long silence that neither of them have the heart to break. Starlings chatter in the trees above them, then scatter across the sunset. Ron squints up at the sky.

"Your mom's making dinner --" "I think it's dinner time," they both say at almost the same time, and then laugh, embarrassed.

They turn to head inside, the warm glow of the Weasley kitchen beckoning gold against the twilight blue. Fred and George are upstairs, back-lit by the lamps and arguing happily as they throw things at each other. It seems like another distant world from the outside. Pebbles crunch underfoot.

"I don't suppose you've heard of The Centaur Club," Harry begins, shyly looking at the ground. "Because, um, Saturday they're having a special.…"

Ron turns to him with a shocked laugh. "I thought you said you didn't like bars!"

"I didn't think you'd like someplace like The Centaur," Harry shrugs.

"Huh." Ron stares off into space a moment. Then he nods. "Sure. Saturday's good."

Then he chuckles, nudging Harry's shoulder playfully. "So... Charlie, eh?"


End file.
